Heartache
by Alliedoolallie
Summary: Something is lurking in the back alleyways of the High Warlock, things like that don't get past him too easily. But with his own problems to deal with, can the worries of an old friend really occupy him? Especially with Alec in his life. Magnus learns that sometimes, even he himself has to become dependant on others. OC involved (not paired with canon characters) Malec.
1. Chapter One : Old Habits

In Magnus Bane's opinion, and he had lived long enough for his opinion to mean something in the grand scheme of things ; New York was never prettier than when she was crying. And she was crying her heart out now. Thick icy tears were sliding down every window pane, every surface that she owned. New York was crying. And all the Warlock was doing was watching. When you had been alive for as long as Magnus, watching became something that you became thankful for. Living in a world that was constantly changing, surrounded by faces that were more like fragments in the never ending spiral of darkness that was his life, he started to be thankful for his ability to watch things. If you watched things you could remember them easier. A sight that was burnt in to your eyes on a daily basis was easier to look back on than a sight that was fogged by memory. Some might find the constant lure of his gaze unnerving ; having eyes that tended to flicker to that of a cat had that sort of effect on people.

The Warlock was humming to himself, a song that had no specific tune but still seemed to be one he knew. He wasn't quite sure where he had heard it before. A sailor's song perhaps? On one of the many boats Magnus had been on in the time before cars. A woman's song during the post warmness of intimacy? A mans? Magnus closed his eyes with a heavy sigh that seemed to show his true age. He allowed himself to listen. Listening was sometimes as beneficial as watching. He heard the sound of New York's tears hitting against the glass surfaces of his apartment. Oh, the tears that he had heard in his lifetime. All of a sudden, he recognized where he had heard the song from. His mind was suddenly taken back to the peaceful times of long ago. Times when the only thing on his mind was wine in his goblet. Dancing girls, all brunnette with flowers twined in to their locks, dancing with their hands clasped in a circle. Simple, easy going Celtic songs echoing across campfires. _An easier time_. He pondered to himself as he let his eyes open slowly. _Where mundanes were just as easy to defy one an other. _

It was Chairman Meow who drew his attention to things other than his drunken state of philosophy. "Oh my darling." He said with a little sigh as he allowed himself to sink back in to his armchair. Chairman Meow hopped up on to the chair's arm, brushing his whiskers against Magnus' face in way of mutual greeting. Magnus let a manicured hand brush against the cat's silk fur. The cat's sudden interest in him did surprise him, as Chairman had been in a slight mood with him that morning, as his food hadn't been right. Magnus, in a rare foul mood, elected to ignore the cat's temperament. "What is it?" With a frown, the Warlock sat himself up a little more. "Oh my dear Chairman, were you outside?" He asked in a voice that was acrually bordering concern. "In that brutal weather?" The cat in question just gave an attention seeking yowl of conformation. Magnus shook his head a little in empathy before he stood, letting the cat snake around his shins for a moment or two before he stepped forward. The music that was floating to his ears from the speakers in his apartment was a soothing wash of acoustic music, pipes and chanting voices from Ancient Greece and Rome. Music that was brand new to his ears centuries ago. "Go and rest yourself, dear boy." He said, picking up his cocktail from where he had left it on the table. He was clad in what he saw to be his casual clothes. A button up shirt and his boxers. His makeup was as perfect and as pristine as always, the eyeliner sloping down across the edges of his cat like eyes in an egyptian like swerve. His cocktail was a simple thing. A cosmopolitan if nothing else. He watched his cat snake around the corner of the door before he settled on a couch. He let himself display the smallest of tuts when he found a bra under one of the cushions, forcing himself to be repelled at the sight. _This is what happens when you invite more than one Fairy child to a party. _With a bitter sip of his drink, the warlock shifted himself on the couch, allowing his amber eyes to close after a moment's thought.

_"Magnus." The voice was a soft. A voice that he barely heard over the soft movement of the trees. He was met with a blissful wind kissing at his tanned skin, the sound of long grass shifting in the breeze, insects buzzing as the heat blazed down on his form. "Magnus?"_ _It was a question now. A question that Magnus found himself wanting to answer. He tilted his head down ever so slightly, and his feline eyes were met with blue. That blue that he had fallen for all those months ago. That crisp, and aquatic blue. Alec was smiling at him, sapphire pools blinking up through a curtain of night. "Yes Alexander?" The Warlock asked, realising that his head hand been in fact resting on the trunk of a tree. A lone tree in a luscious and fruitful field. Idris? No. Why would he be in Idris? He looked back down at the Shadowhunter boy, who seemed to be using his abdomen as a makeshift pillow as the lay together. "Are you happy?" Alec asked, and Magnus found himself sliding his fingers through that silk black hair. "Darling?" He asked softly, letting his reply hold only the barest tint of confusion. "...Are you happy? T-That we're together?" The boy said quietly. At that, Magnus stopped his hand from it's actions, looking down at Alec in general concern a slight flick of annoyance shone behind his eyes. "If I were not ; would I be allowing myself to lie with you like so?" He asked instantly. How could he think something like this? Was his love not true enough? Was Alec having doubts? Something as repressive as the Clave could change a boy. And Alec was just a boy. A boy who was now looking slightly panicked as he often did in situations like this, his arms tightening around Magnus' torso. "N-No. No I didn't mean it like that. I didn't. I was just...I was just thinking and I opened my mouth and-" Magnus had already shushed him at that point, though it broke off in to a small chuckle as he drew the nephilim boy a little closer to his chest. "Not a single fear in your mind, Alexander. Not a single one, my darling." He said in a hushed tone. Alec had closed his beautiful eyes at this point, just holding on to Magnus for what it was worth._

_The boy always did interest Magnus. The way he could change from a raging, protecting elder brother to a blushing teen in however long it took Magnus to say certain things was as entertaining as it was interesting. Alexander Lightwood. The eldest of the Lightwood children. Magnus didn't blame him for being so stubborn. Something told him that stubbornness was acquired when one was the elder brother to someone like Isabelle. Alec who was the closest thing to an elder brother Jace Wayland could ever get. He was already a best friend. As soon as they walked in to his party that night, all those months ago, dragging Jocelyn Fray's daughter with them, Magnus knew that there was something between them. Something that was felt only by Alec. How painful it was to be loved and not loved back. The Warlock had seen the way he was staring at the golden haired boy. How, with every movement and touch of Clary's, he seemed to crumple more and more. Though he wouldn't let that show to anyone else. Guarded and protected by his own snaps and mutters of distaste. His surly obediance towards what was right. It may have been that that caused Magnus to spot him. Aside from the fact that he had black hair and blue eyes. A kink Magnus was not even regretful of anymore. It had been a good few hundred years after all. Even with the boy's stunning looks aside, Magnus did feel inclined to let him know he was being noticed. To make him realise that he didn't always have to be the one pining and receiving nothing in return. That he was something special. Something to be sought after. He looked down at the boy, half asleep in the laziness of the sun. Magnus brushed a hand through his thick hair, letting the side of his hand trail down from his cheekbone to his chin. He took in the look of his eyelashes, his prominent jaw-line, even the dusted freckles. With a little smile the Warlock leant down and pressed a chaste kiss on the boys lips. A simple peck to let him know that even in sleep, Magnus was there. Also, a weak attempt to get him to stop clinging on to his shirt so tightly. It was rather expensive after all and he didn't want to have to handwash it again. "Yes my darling." He said in a whisper. "...I am happy."___

The meow of all things, woke him from his slumber. As much as he loved his cat, the Chairman did have a habit of interrupting him at the nicest of times. The Warlock sat up on aching bones. How long had he been asleep? What seemed like a moment of reminiscence had turned in to a bitter sleep. Magnus noticed, with a annoyed tut, that he had let his cocktail spill over his shirt. He looked to his cat stubbornly. "One more word from you," He began. "And you will be the one washing it." A glance to the clock told him that it was the early hours of the morning. He heaved himself to his feet and was about to make his way to his bedroom, when he heard it. A knock on the door. _Someone clearly has a death wish_. He was inclined to ignore it and go to bed anyway, either that or blast them to pieces. It was the second knock that got to him. Six knocks. Almost a rhythm. It was that caused him to walk down the wooden stairs to the door. He managed to open it ever so slightly, peering out in to the weak sunlight. Magnus Bane was rarely shocked. Very, very rarely. The last time he had been this shocked was when he had discovered that William Shakespeare was in fact up for the idea of taking their 'discussion' upstairs. Magnus had obviously. taken his leave the next morning. Which was probably what lead the playwrite to speak of magical folk in such bitterness in his future works. At the sight of the figure, looking as cocky as ever, standing in his doorway, the Warlock forced his expression of surprise to fade to that of distaste. "Oh." He said, letting his head rest against the doorframe as he heaved out an over exaggerated sigh.

"It's you."

_**I apologize for the lack of…well, chapter in this. It's more of a scribbled prologue. Anyway, I will hopefully have the second chapter done and dusted by tomorrow. Reviews are loved as is constructive criticism, as I have little to no faith that I am writing Magnus' amazing character correctly.  
-Allie.**_


	2. Chapter Two : Old Friends

It was the music that woke Alec up. Begrudgingly so, as it was still only seven in the morning. How on earth he could hear the music in the kitchen from his bedroom on the other side of the Institute was beyond him. But then again, knowing his luck it was most likely Jace's doing. Alec sat up in bed, stiff and sore from the hunting on the night previous. He sleepily ran a hand down his face, flicking away any sleep that he found in his eyes. He just sat there, the covers resting around his waist as he listened, idly scratching at his bedhair with a yawn. _Jace for fuck's sake, _was the first bitter thought to cross his mind that morning. Alec didn't even find it funny anymore that most of those said thoughts were usually directed to his parabati. He swung his legs out of bed, hastily pulling on some jeans that he found on the floor along with a long sleeved t-shirt. Alec wasn't one for slogans and pictures. It was just a simple red ; most likely the brightest thing in his wardrobe. After running a hand through his tangled hair to assure that it held some resemblance to the shape it was in when he had fallen face first in to bed a few hours ago, Alec padded out in to the hallway.

Sure enough, Boston's More Than A Feeling was blasting from the kitchen. Alec was shaking his head to himself as he walked down the marble hallways. _It's far too early in the morning for classic rock thank you very much. _He mused as he rolled his eyes. At the sight of Church, washing himself in the hallway Alec stopped. The cat met his eyes whilst inconspicuously licking his paw. Alec wasn't entirely sure how the cat managed to look inconspicuous but it did. "Don't worry Church." He said through a rare yawn. "I think I know where Jace is. You don't need to walk me there." He muttered, stretching his arms. His face fell in to a small wince when he heard the clicking his back made. It was at that point that Isabelle opened her bedroom door. She was in her dressing gown, which was more of a Japanese kimono than anything else. Probably a gift from boyfriend number sixty three. Isabelle had a pink silk sleeping mask pushed up on to her forehead, which was showing the pefect scowl that was twisting his sister's features. "I don't care how you do it. Just maim him. Don't kill." She said, still scowling. Alec just nodded with a sigh. "He's either in a really good mood or he's sulking." He said with a little shrug of his shoulders. The younger Lightwood child shook her head. "If he was sulking he'd be playing the piano. Which I would prefer at this time of the morning. Not Journey."  
"It's Boston, actually." Alec supplied, sliding his hands in to the back pockets of his jeans awkwardly. "What?" Isabelle said with a small frown. Alec shook his head dismissively. "It's nothing." He said quickly. "I'll get him to turn it down."

Jace was in fact in a surprisingly good mood when Alec finally walked in to the kitchen. The radio was playing and the sun was shining through the window, warming Alec's back. It was the sound of his little brother's voice, as cheery and as..._Max_ as ever that caused him to smile. "Alec! Hi Alec!" Max said from where he was sitting on the counter, watching as Jace squinted at the toaster in expectation. Alec managed a little smile back at his hyperactive younger sibling. "You're up early." He noted as he leant back against the kitchen table, letting his blue eyes slide over the pizza boxes, some with slices in, that were littered over the table. Was that last night's dinner or the night before? He looked to his parabati, who was still locked in a staring contest with the toaster. "Morning." Jace said, not looking over his shoulder. "I think the toaster hates me." He said, as if it was completely normal for the toaster to have temperaments. "I think I might have offended it when I said we should get a new one. It's not letting me have my toast." Alec blinked a few times before he rolled his eyes. "Maybe you should apologize." He said in a voice that was dripping with sarcasm. "I've tried that. I think it wants me to buy it a drink or something." Jace said, finally turning to face his adoptive brother with a little shrug, by this point, Alec had already turned the radio down a substantial amount, which caused Jace to look at him accusingly. "What do you have against Boston?"  
"Their volume." Alec muttered over his shoulder. "You've pissed off Issie." He informed the golden haired Shadowhunter as he walked over to the fridge. He opened it, took in the sight of it's empty shelves and promptly closed it once more. He pushed himself on to the counter again. "Someone needs to run to the store at some point. Max...what are you doing?" Alec had only just noticed the object his little brother had in his hands. Max was holding a thin rectangular object, tapping away at it in interest. Jace looked over his shoulder. "Oh. That thing. Clary left it here. I just let Max go on it. I think it's called a tablet."

_Clary was here?_ Alec forced himself to think of other things. He slid off the counter and walked over to where his little brother was sitting. He tilted his head a little at the sight of the white words on the black background. "Max what are you reading?"  
"Scary story." Came Max's reply, in the 'I am far too busy and important to answer your questions' tone that only nine year old's could truly master. Jace rolled his eyes at the look Alec shot him through his fringe. "It's nothing. Just some little scary website that mundie kids go on. Spooky Spaghetti."  
"Creepypasta." Max corrected. Jace just waved a hand at him. "Whatever." He mused dismissively. "Terrifying Italian Goods. Harmless stuff Alec." Max looked to his elder brother, a enthusiastic grin on his face. "I love this story, Alec. I've just finished it. It was awesome."  
_Humor him. _Alec told himself. _He's a little kid. Let him be a little kid. _Forcing a smile, Alec let his eyes scan over some of the words. "What's it called?"

Jace was leaning over the counter on his elbows, blonde fringe shifting as he listened intently. Max looked up eagerly. "Gateway Of The Mind. It's so cool Alec. It's about these Scientist guys and they come up with this really weird idea that if you take away a mundie's five senses they'll be able to communicate with God. S-So they get this guy and he lets them do it cos he's getting old and he says he has nothing left to live for. They get rid of all of his senses and they monitor him for a few weeks. After a while he starts sobbing and saying that he can hear his dead wife talking to him and that he could talk back to her. Bu-But they didn't believe him. They thought it was just a side effect. O-Or something like that. Anyway,It was only when he started naming their dead relatives that they realised what they had done. Most of the scientists left then. A few weeks later the guy started screaming and throwing himself against walls to try and cause himself some pain, he kept begging for them to kill him. At one point he was, like, screaming 'No heaven no forgiveness' for five hours straight." Max had the gleam in his eye, interest and enthusiasm were practically shining in the blue irises. "Then it gets cooler. For some time the guy just lies on his back and stares at the ceiling, crying constantly. I mean constantly. Nothing can stop him. They have to re-hydrate him for days cos he was losing so much water. Eventually he turns and makes eye contact with one of the scientists for the first time, even though the removed his ability to see. And he just whispers 'I have spoken with God. And he has abandoned us' and then his vital signs just-" Alec nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the loud bang. Jace had the same reaction, he swivelled on his heels. "Toaster!" He announced. Alec slowly looked back to his little brother, pretending that he wasn't interested when in fact, he sort of was. "And?"

Max gave a small shrug. "He died. The guy just died. They have no idea why." There was silence for some time, Alec was just looking down at the floor, thinking about certain things, before he snatched the tablet from his little brother's hands. "No more scary stories for you."  
"Alec, our family kills demons for a living." Max muttered. Alec narrowed his eyes a little. The kid was clearly spending too much time with Jace. He tucked the tablet under his arm. "You're a nine year old. More importantly, Mom would kill me if you start having nightmares again. So no Max. No more scary stories." He said, shaking his head slightly with what he hoped to be his Father's 'you know I'm right' expression. Jace rolled his eyes from where he was sitting on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth as he bit in to his long awaited toast. "Alec, it's not like he isn't going to see fucked up stuff when he's older." He reasoned, to which Max nodded in agreement, folding his arms as he went to stand by Jace's side. _Great. So now they're ganging up on me._ "He _isn't_ older, Jace. He's nine years old. I don't want him reading some mundane folklore-"

"What are you idiots doing now?" Isabelle asked as she walked in, her hair as perfect as always. She was dressed in a simple flowery summers dress, her snake bracelet coiled around her wrist as always. Just in case. "You're being louder than the music was before." Alec turned to face his sister, his eyes asking her the question his mouth did not. Isabelle sighed a little. "Dad's fine, Alec. Mum sent me down here."  
None of the Lightwood children had really spoken about what had happened that night on Valentine's ship a week or so ago. When their Father had been injured. None of them had spoken about how worn and tired Mayrse was appearing. But they all knew. Even, Alec thought, Max. "What did she want? Does she want me to give her a hand?" Alec asked hoarsely, clearing his throat before he schooled his expression, looking up at his sister expectantly. Isabelle shook her head. "No. But she wants you to do something for her."  
Alec raised a brow. "Do what?"

****

The figure standing in the doorway of Magnus Bane's apartment had a smile on his face, a sort of smile that even Jace Wayland himself would be slightly jealous of. His hair was a dark black, clearly the work of dye. The fringe was cut at a diagonal, so it fell down over his left eye in choppy waves. The tips of the said fringe were dyed red. Magnus would have rolled his eyes if it were on anyone else. But somehow the person seemed to make it work. A worn brown leather jacket was shrugged over his shoulders, a black t-shirt with some odd song lyric scrawled across it. Somehow, the boy had managed to weasel in to some skinny purple jeans, a studded belt hung low around his sides. His feet were a different story however, battered Doc Marten boots. When the boy spoke, his accent was slanted with a southern Irish slant. "Magnus Bane. As always, your greetings are something I look forward to." He teased, folding his arms. Magnus sighed, looking out at the bleak rain, quirking a brow at how New York's tears seemed to be avoiding the boy. "Aran Dolan. I thought I'd managed to get rid of you a few centuries ago."  
The goth boy, Aran, shook his head a little. "Still here Maggie." He said with a little chuckle. Magnus heaved out another sigh. _Not this irritating leprechaun again.._ "Why are you here?" He asked in his usual abrupt way. Aran gave a little tut, glancing up at the raindrops that were suddenly curving their path to avoid him. "Can't you at least pretend to be pleased to see me?"

Magnus turned on his heels, leaving the door wide open. He knew Aran would walk in. He was that sort of person. "If I did something like that I would have to put my award winning acting skills to use." Magnus said dryly. The odd boy gave a small little laugh at that, surprisingly, still lingering in the doorway. Magnus looked over his shoulder, halfway up the wonky wooden stairs that lead to his main apartment. "Aren't you coming?" He asked, tilting his head, almost in unison with Chairman Meow at his feet. Aran laughed again. "Not without the right foreplay, no." He replied with a chuckle. Magnus let his eyes slide closed for a moment. _I thought Wayland was bad._ "What are you waiting for?"  
"You know damn well, Bane." Aran said, not laughing this time. Magnus slowly walked down a few more steps so he could see Aran's face properly. "She's with you? Your sister?"  
"Of course I am." Came the soft voice from behind Aran's body. The girl stepped out, a red velvet cloak was wrapped around her petite body, the hood was up. Unlike Aron, the girl was letting the rain fall on her body, with only the hood of the cloak keeping her dry. Magnus could see the blonde, almost white hair stand out from within the hood. The girl raised her head, pink eyes meeting with Magnus' own tawny ones. "Hello Magnus." She said, over the sound of the rain hitting against the concrete. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Old friend."

The last thing Magnus Bane needed at the moment was the Dolan twins turning up on his doorstep. The girl however, was different to her twin brother. She was quiet where Aran was arrogant and cocky. He had always preferred the younger twin anyway. Less hassle. "Ethna." He greeted, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "It has been a while hasn't it?"

Chairman Meow seemed to be as annoyed at the fact that they had guests as Magnus was. He was thankful for the fact that he was such an amazing host sometimes. Otherwise he would have just shut the door in their faces. He allowed himself to sink back down in to the mattress of his bed, looking at the two teenagers standing before him. Both were completely the same in height, and; unlike most non-identical twins, held quite a lot of resemblance to each other. They had the same pink eyes, the same angled features that still seemed to be mildy inviting. The only thing that was different (apart from their personalities) was their voices. Whenever Aran Dolan spoke he spoke loud enough for the entire world to hear his sentence. Ethna on the other hand? Magnus always saw her voice to be like wind whispering through a weeping willow. Oddly enchanting. The two siblings were standing shoulder to shoulder,looking around the Warlock's abode. Ethna spoke. "Does this city always cry?" She asked. Something about the way she delivered her words always gave Magnus the impression of a small child asking questions. Meaningless little questions which the answers to would light up their little lives. And that was what Ethna was really. They were both barely sixteen when the immortality had struck. Sixteen for thousands of years. Knowing all but never maturing. Immortality, Magnus pondered, was one man's gift and another man's curse. When he spoke to Ethna he spoke as if he was, once again, talking to a small child. "...This city has a lot to cry about my dear. A lot to hide and a lot to regret."

The odd girl was staring out of the window in some interest, watching the constant rain fall hitting against the windows. "Brigadoon didn't cry as much as this city." She stated, before she let her hood slide down on to her shoulders. "Every city has it's secrets. Just some are better at hiding them than others."  
Aran was watching his sister, before his pink eyes flicked back to Magnus. "Our visit to this town is not a social one, Magnus."  
"Really? Such a shame. I was just about to take down the Monopoly." Magnus said bitterly. Ethna blinked. "What is such a thing?" She asked in her usual quiet voice. Magnus just shook his head at her. "It is of no matter, little one. If not a social visit than what else?" He asked the older of the two, letting Meow jump in to his lap. He ran his hand over the cat's ears and down on to it's back. Giving him the odd feeling that he was some sort of Bond villain. Aran shrugged off his coat the same time as Ethna unclasped her cloak. Magnus had forgotten that the two of them had a habit of doing things in unison. His eyes instantly fell on to the runes that were snaking their way up both of the teens arms. Aran and Ethna were not Shadowhunters. Nephilim, yes, but not Shadowhunters. Their runes were a dark and royal purple, their eyes an albino like pink. Zaltan's, as the legend went, were the result of being a little too open to the Mortal Cup. If a Mundane wasn't ready, Forsaken were created. That was common knowledge. But if one was _too_ ready? Too suseptible? Zaltan's were the result of that._ Well, _Magnus thought to himself. _Aran and Ethna are a result of that. The Clave never make the same mistake twice. Even in the 13th century. _  
"We have a proposition for you, dear friend." He said, sitting down a second or so after Ethna had settled herself on the couch. "We help you, you help us." Ethna shot an innocent smile Magnus' way. "Yes. I think you might like it, Magnus. Aran wasn't so sure on the way here. But I think you'll take a shine to it."  
Magnus leant back in his chair, cocking a brow. "...I'm listening."


	3. Chapter Three : Old Tales

"Absolutely not." Magnus said instantly. Aron and Ethna, for once, had individual expressions. Aron was looking generally annoyed with the Warlock's answer whereas Ethna looked as placid as ever. When Aron spoke his voice had lost all signs of adolescent cheek. He stood, sauntering over to the window, looking out at New York. The city was just waking, a dull and worn winter sunlight washed over the Brooklyn streets. Aron let his old and pink eyes slide over the view. "We are older than you, Magnus. I do hope you remember that. Yes, you look older through appearance, but through years?" Aron turned to face the Warlock once more, his arms folded. "My sister and I were alive before the fall of Rome. Before the death of Christ. We were alive when the Nephilim were formed. When the angel Raziel himself came down from the heavens. We were one of the first to drink—"

"Really, if you're going to tell me your life story you should write it down." Magnus quipped simply, raising a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. "It might be less grating." Aron closed his eyes for a moment before he turned back to the window. "You know of Brother Jeremiah's demise?" He asked, his soft accent never really did seem to fit the words that came out of his mouth. Magnus took a sip from the coffee that was in his hands. "Yes. I have been told." Was his quiet reply. He neglected to mention the fact that it had been Alec that told him. Alec Lightwood had told him the news from where he was sitting on the couch, picking at a scab that ran across his knuckles. Magnus remembered sitting quietly and letting Alec babble it all out. It had been on the night Alec had stayed in Jace's place. When the boy had had his heart set on taking Jocelyn's daughter and the odd skinny one to the Court. Even now, Magnus found his eyes falling on to the golden couch near the window. Where the Shadowhunter boy had ended up falling asleep on him. Alec had become frightfully embarrassed upon waking up, but Magnus made nothing of it. He had just held the boy. For once allowing him to be the one protected, instead of being the one to do the protecting himself.

"Bane." Aron sighed, in a voice that had clearly been repeating itself a good few times. Ethna shook her head. "Leave him for a moment, Brother." She said softly, looking back at Magnus. "His mind is somewhere else." She explained, a ghost of a smile crossing her pale lips. Aron pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched up his face in exasperation. "Sister this is hardly a time for daydreaming." He reasoned. Ethna's voice was as calm as the ocean before a storm. Aron always saw it to be a mixed blessing. It was easing and comforting, yes, but it could be alarming sometimes. An ancient immortal who need not as much as raise her voice to crash a room in to silence. "He is not daydreaming. Daydreams are make believe. Tales of the imagination. Magnus' eyes hold none of that. He is not daydreaming. He is simply dreaming of days gone by."  
Aron made a bitter sound in his throat. "We're immortal. We all dream of days gone by. _Bane._" This time he said the name with more vindication, causing the Warlock to turn to look at him slowly. The boy took this as his queue to continue. "Brother Jeremiah was murdered through Valentine's doing. You know as well as I, Magnus, that he cared for us all those years ago. As my sister and I cared for you."

As annoying as it was, Aron Dolan was right. When Magnus was brought to the small sanctuary, Aron and Ethna were there. They schooled him and played with him from the age of five. It was just Magnus' bittersweet luck that his immortality kicked in when he was visibly older looking than the twins. But still, whether he agreed with them or not didn't mean that Magnus had to be nice about it. "What does that matter?" Ethna answered his query. "It was his dying wish."  
"How do you know?" Magnus asked through a rather forced yawn. "He was murdered." He let his hand trace through Chairman Meow's fur once more. Aron leant back against the wall, causing Magnus to mentally curse the boy and the possibility that he might smudge his designer wallpaper. "We're older." The Irish boy reminded him. "We had a stronger mental bond with the Silent Brothers. Or we had at least." He said bitterly. Ethna closed her eyes and looked down at her hands, which were perfectly folded in her lap. "Magnus, you don't have to help us. I just thought you would." Now, Magnus knew that she wasn't trying to guilt trip him. Ethna didn't have the post-modernic knowledge to do so. This was probably why it was working.

The Warlock sighed. "It is dangerous, Ethna. Perhaps when I was younger." He explained calmly. "But not now. I have too much to lose." He admitted. "And I'm not as powerful as I once was. I find myself easily drained these days." He said simply as he studied his nails, tutting at the chipped nail polish. _Anti-chip my ass._Aron pushed forward off the wall, moving to stand next to where his sister was perched on the couch. "You have your Nephilim. There are rumours going around that you aid them frequently. That gabble of Shadowhunters at the New York Institute."  
Magnus hoped to whatever divine entity that was actually up there that his head shake didn't come out as quickly as the feeling of dread in his chest did. "No." He said instantly, though he tried to school his expression. "I'm not dragging them in to this. This is not their fight."

_Him. Stop thinking about him. It won't go after him._Aron was still standing where he was. Before he frowned, noticing something down the street. He walked over to the window with such an ease that made it appear like he was floating. He squinted, leaning over slightly.  
"…I think you might have to."

*

Emily Kington loved reading. She always had. Her main argument, upon being asked or ridiculed for her passions was a simple one. Sometimes fictional people were better than real ones. Made up worlds whether they be utopias or dystopias, were all more intriguing than the one she lived in. It was because of this, that she came to the conclusion that she wanted to complete a degree in English Language.

The library that her University used was a large one. Six floors of books on every category. Fiction or non-fiction. They were there. That was what made her like New York so much. However, what she hated about the city was the rain. When it rained it poured.

Emily squeezed out the last few drops of rainwater from her hair with a sigh, walking to the elevator after she had wiped her feet. Everyone one the campus was either asleep or at a party. Emily knew that socially she should have been doing one or the other. But she wasn't. Emily had some late night research to do. With fingers that were sodden with water, she hastily pressed the number that would take her to the third floor of the library. The Classics. As the elevator slowly ascended Emily regarded herself in the large mirrors that lined the three sides of the elevator. She seemed to be slightly wilted from the rain and the dark circles under her eyes reminded her of what she really should have been doing at this time of night. As she stepped out of the elevator, she took a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, before she fumbled for the switch on the wall. She never liked it when she was on her own. But it was shelter from the rain and it gave her somewhere to go. Home wasn't really a good option.

The leather bound book was exactly where she had left it the previous night. Sitting on the stand, opened to a random page with the red silk bookmark resting precariously in the middle. Emily traced her fingertips down the page, before she closed it with a satisfying thump and made her way to her usual spot on the window seat. '_The Complete Works Of Edgar Allan Poe'_wasn't exactly a small book,. It certainly required two hands to carry. She had most of the page number memorised by now, so it didn't take her long to find the page that was headed with '_The Tell Tale Heart'._ It had always been her favourite so Emily had asked to study it for her course. With a content sigh, Emily allowed her eyes to slide over the familiar words.. '_True, nervous, very,very dreadfully nervous I have been and am; but WHY will you say that I am mad?'_

The clink of metal from one of the back rooms caused her to raise her head. A frown knitted her eyebrows together. She was sure she was alone. She had never seen another student in the library at this time. "Hello?" She called from where she was sitting; the book still perched on her lap. "Mr Green is that you?"

A ringing silence replied. Emily, dismissing it to be a fragment of her imagination, returned to reading. '_The disease has sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them' _She shifted a little in her seat, clearing her throat and trying to focus some more on her work, pulling her notebook from her bag to run over her notes. The metal clink came again, but this time it was followed by a little hiss. Emily's head shot up. "Billy? Billy is that you?" Once again, no reply followed her demands. _'Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and the earth. I heard many things in Hell.'_ She didn't notice it at first, but it was there. It was always there. Ever since she had first set food in the library that night. It was good at watching. Analysing every aspect of it's prey. '_Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen _**_me._**_' _Still, it continued to slide over the ceiling, two large pincers snapping together in anticipation. Blood, meat and flesh. Blood, meat and flesh. '_I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him.' _Emily stopped reading, and the creature stopped moving. The girl lifted her head, tucking her damp hair behind her ear as she watched the rain slide down the window. After a moment, she let her eyes drift back down to the page again.

The creature didn't move again. Not for a long while. It just watched the girl through thousands of eyes. The demon was a little like a Komodo Dragon. Biting it's prey and injecting the poison. Before it followed and waited. Watched until the animal was dying and defenceless; before moving in for the final kill. Emily was nearly finished with the story now, her knees half hugged to her chest with the book balanced on top of them. The creature had been hiding all day. All the blood and the meat that had passed through was unbearable. All the skin it could taste in the air. But it couldn't strike. Not when there was so many other Mundanes present. It needed to wait. For a silly mundane to venture up there alone. Like Emily. The beast would have been slavering in anticipation if it had a human mouth. Instead of rows and rows of sharp teeth. Some spit slowly slid out of it's black lips, landing on top of the wooden bookshelf that stood at least eight feet in the air. It sizzled the oak ever so slightly, turning the wood a cold and dead black. The beast allowed it's eyes to slide closed as it sniffed the air. It could smell her. Smell her belief. So much _belief_. It was like honey to him. So much anticipation was flooding through it's veins, making it's black heart beat faster and faster. It was loud, pulsing out in the darkness. Emily frowned a little, taking out one earphone to study it sceptically. She was sure even Muse didn't have such a heavy base line as that. Perhaps it was the piping? They always did make odd noises at this time of night.

The heartbeat became faster and faster as the creature finally began to move once more. Emily was reading once more, for the last time she would ever know. The steady thumping was scaring her now, making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. It was closer almost. And suddenly Emily had the feeling that she really, really shouldn't be there. The creature was directly above her now, it's heart beating so steadily it sounded like a train beating on the tracks. Emily was forcing herself to finish the line she was on, finish the story, and then leave. Go back to the 24 hour cafe she had been sitting in before. With the heart still beating in her ears, she hurriedly finished. '_I felt that I must scream or die!-And now!-Again!- Hark! Louder! Louder! Louder!_ **Louder!**_ - "Villains!" I shrieked "Dissemble no more! I admit the deed!-tear up the planks! here, here!-It Is The Beating Of His Hideous Heart!"_

Only the birds heard Emily Kington's scream. They scattered in the sky to mark her passing. The rest of her death rattle was drowned out by New York's tears. As they had drowned out so many before.

*

December was a bitter time of year in the same way it was a happy one. Alec had always thought that. It had taken him a long time to finally figure out a way of detouring his younger brother as he was heading out. Otherwise he'd just be subject to pleas and whines of boredom and the constant begging of having a manga comic brought home for him. Alec was successful in this, as Jace had been sitting with Max in the library, pointing out a few things to him about the runes in the Gray Book. December was even worse when it was raining. What he didn't mind however was the fact that he got to wear his coat. His Mother had brought it back for him on her most recent journey to Idris. She had said something about it being one of her Fathers. Either way Alec had become rather attached to it. It was a long greatcoat. Navy blue with heavy brass buttons. Buttons that he was now hurriedly buttoning up in an attempt to banish the cold. Snow had soon turned to a merciless onslaught of rain. Rain that caused the snow that had fallen to become slushy and grey at his feet. But it had stopped now. For once he wasn't wearing boots, just simple black dress shoes.

Alec crossed the road with some Mundanes, not bothering with an invisibility rune. He had one seraph blade tucked in to the inside pocket of his coat. It wasn't obvious and he had faith in that fact. He glanced around at the Christmas lights in the streets and the displays in the shop windows. Whether it was a Mundane holiday or not, Alec still felt a little lifted by it all. Not that he would ever admit to it. Jace just liked it for the music. Music which he had been blasting from the kitchen every chance he had. Alec was sure if he head 'I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day' one more time he would do something unlawful with a knife. Whether that was to Jace or himself he was unsure.

Issie, for some reason, had decided to go all out this year. For a family that had never really celebrated Christmas, she was positive that they were going to do so this year. Presents, dinner, all of it. Although he would never admit it, Alec didn't really mind. The fact that he sat with Max and watched Home Alone in the kitchen that morning had made him smile. For once they were behaving like a normal family. Max was lapping it all up happily, practically bouncing with excitement. Of course, unlike normal children, Max did ask how Santa got in to the Institute, if he could see through glamour, if he knew Church, and if Jace was _quite_ sure that he wasn't a demon.

Snow crunching under his feet, Alec walked down the street with his hands in his pockets, looking up at the clear night sky. He took a shortcut down the lane and walked briskly with his head lowered, his breath steaming up before his face. Oddly, he remembered running around the fields with Jace as children, watching their breath steaming up and pretending they were dragons. Shaking such thoughts from his head, Alec looked around himself. He regarded the library as he passed it. Standing alone at the end of the street, alone and in darkness. A few Christmas lights flashed here and there. He stared at the library for a moment or two, before he looked to the other side of the street as he crossed. The toy shop was large and towering, massive window displays drew his blue eyes. '_Through A Child's Eyes' _as it was called, was one of the largest toy shops in New York. Christmas, obviously, meant that it was in the height of business. Even though it was closed, they had still left the lights in the displays on, as well as power to the toys that were in there. Alec stood, staring in with a ghost of a smile on his lips. Thinking back to when they had first come to New York. When it Maryse had taken Jace, Isabelle and himself out for the day as children. He had stood outside this shop with his little family, tiptoeing and peeking through the glass. Maryse had reluctantly (due to Jace's puppy faces and Isabelle's sniffles) taken them in. The thought of his toy bow, with arrows tipped with rubber suction cups made him smile a little more. Until he was smiling fully, standing in a deserted street, looking in at a toy shop, a soft laugh even escaped at the thought of all the little 'wars' he would have with his sister and adoptive brother. How no matter how many times he had 'killed' Jace the little boy would spring up again, using his best bad guy laugh, and chase Alec and his sister, giggling all the time, down the wide hallways of the Institute, until Hodge had tugged them in for tutoring.

The thought of Hodge dragged his memories from him. The smile falling from his face. A small whistle sounded from inside the display, a train was snaking down a track, presents in it's carriages. Alec watched for a moment, looking back at the shelves of varnished toys, Barbies, Action men, toy soldiers, Buzz Lightyear's and Woody's. _Maybe I should get Max something..._ He thought to himself. Alec turned and carried on his way. Deciding that it was best to just come back tomorrow. As he rounded the corner of the street, he felt the butterflies in his stomach spring to life once more. He hated it when he got himself so worked up about things. It had taken him so long to convince himself to go and see Magnus as it was. Hours of sitting on his bed. Of 'I'm going. I'll go. Wait no. No. What if he's busy? I'll go tomorrow'. This had been going on for about a week now. For a moment he just stared at the circular red door at the end of the street, clearing his throat. _Hey Magnus. It's only me. I just thought I'd drop by. No...Hi Magnus. I'm not interrupting something am I? Hey Magnus. Just checking. Do you want me to buy you a phone that actually takes calls or-_The light on the top floor caught his attention, causing him to stop. There was someone up there. More than one person. He frowned a little, and the boy peering through the window frowned back, before looking over his shoulder to say something. Alec swallowed thickly, trying to mask the growing disappointment and hurt in his chest. _...Right. _He let out a small breath, before he slowly turned around. The door opened then, and Magnus was standing there, in a button up shirt and not much else. He didn't even seem to be reacting to the cold. "Honestly Alexander."  
Alec whirled, his hands in his pockets still. Magnus had a little smile on his face, holding out his hand. "I'm supposed to be the dramatic one. Come in, you silly idiot. I need to tell you something."

_**Sorry I haven't updated in so long. It's my GCSE's next week, so I might not update for a while. But then I've got the whole of Summer. Reviews are loved! :) **_


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